Love For Words
by amaranteotaku
Summary: Hinata wasn't particularly 'good' at anything when it came to common sense or life skills, but she could write. She was content with this, until Naruto came along and opened doors she had never noticed before. Naru/Hina, many genres, AU.
1. Story Of My Life

**Look, I know, I have other stories… but I wanna do a Naru/Hina!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto or any other recognizable names that may be mentioned in future. This applies to any and all other chapters I might add (if I do add any more).**

**Let me know if I should post this online of continue writing it in private for my own enjoyment.**

**I love Angus & Julia Stone!**

-x-

Streamers. Splattered paint. Loud music. They were everywhere. Flickers and droplets of red and blue paint softly hit her cheek, streaking across her delicate features. It had to be the locally famous Akatsuki performance group. She pushed to the front of the quickly forming crowd and gasped in awe as paper butterflies were thrown inventively over the gathering of curious bystanders.

They seemed to catch flight for a moment, drifting along in the light afternoon air, before landing gracefully upon the heads of giggling children or colliding with the ground, soon to be scooped up by pudgy little hands. There was black tarpaulin sprawled across the ground, some pieces of the poorly cut material overlapping with others to create a sort of 2D stage. The music sped up and formed a jagged beat, indicating the beginning of the show.

A handsome man in a black top hat slowly emerged from the large Kombi van, a black cloak with defining red clouds adorned and flowing freely in the wind. A cluster of swooning girls sighed. Itachi was quite attractive, no?

But Hinata paid no attention to his facial features or toned body. She was far too interested in what was to come. Ever since the Akatsuki's first show six years earlier, she hadn't dared miss a single demonstration unless completely necessary. They had started out small, gradually progressing into a large group of the most talented artists in Konoha. She still remembered the first time her slender hands had caught one of the blue paper butterflies, admiring its craftsmanship and utter beauty. Her mother had always thought they were amazing, too.

She wanted to be them. To be part of them. But she wasn't special, she had nothing to display to the audience that was of interest. So she settled for supporting them with a fifty dollar note each fortnight – each fortnight that they performed – and dreaming of being something like them _someday_.

The word someday bothered her, though. Her mother used it all the time. She would rant about how someday, the two of them would visit Suna together, just the two of them. How they would someday start their own crafts store in the corner of a quaint little town square, where artists and enthusiasts alike would flock for all their supplies.

The someday that had never arrived.

Itachi placed the hat on the ground, where the audience was more than welcome to make donations to them. And they usually did, too, quite generously.

Itachi suddenly grasped the very edge of his coat, and quick as a flash, he had draped the black garment over his body and seemingly disappeared. Applause erupted through the crowd, some impressed whistles ringing in Hinata's ears. There were always one or two people who whistled. It annoyed her to no end, but it wasn't like she could just up and tell someone to shut up at a public show. She would never dream of being so rude, either.

She always waited until everyone else was gone to donate, in fear that someone might steal the gleaming bill. Some people were so desperate, it saddened her to think of them that way, but there was no being too careful in such a world anymore.

The show continued, where she watched a familiar trio of puppets dance with the real puppeteer standing in the middle. They danced like skeletons, making children squeal and coo with delight. Hinata stood to the side so some shorter toddlers could see, receiving mouthed thanks from their mother.

She looked frazzled and dazed. Nobody should have to be so tried simply due to caring for their children, but it seemed that was the price of conception. She would never have been such a burden to her own mother, but it was none of her business what other children did to their family. Nor did she have a right to judge them when they were had only reached such a tender age.

The puppets were dragged off stage by a giant Papier Mache bird. It was covered in strange patterns created by clay sculptures and a tub of glue, so it had to be the works of Deidara. Hinata was always struck with awe when she saw his gorgeous creations; it was a shame that at the end of each performance they exploded into an array of confetti, though everyone else seemed to love it. It was also a pain to clean.

Kakuzu, an older man with a series of barbed-wire tattoos all over his body, strutted out of the van, his black whips flailing all about. It was amazing what he could do, despite his somewhat scary appearance, with the way he twirled and twisted his whips like a gymnast that had trained for years with streamers. It was sort of unnerving to watch at the same time, especially his sinister grin. It was almost as if he was planning on whipping the innocent oglers at any moment, and Hinata always scolded herself for thinking of him that way. She hated it when people were judged for their appearances, though sometimes it was impossible not to do so.

Hidan was in charge of the lights. Hinata suspected that he didn't do anything else because that was all he was good at, feeling jealous that he got to work with amazing artists and not her. He never made constructive comments and was constantly putting everyone down, but he was the only one that ever agreed to cross-dressing, which apparently was useful. It pained her to think that if she had been born a male she might have had a chance at working with them. She never said this, though, for she had been taught not to speak such insolent things. Like her mother.

Kisame worked the music, like a DJ. And damn, was he good. He usually held little dance sessions near the end of the show, where randoms off the street could show off their dance moves to everyone there.

That was actually how Tobi had been discovered; he had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, onto the platform two years before and displayed some of the most amazing and impressive dance moves Hinata had ever seen. He was also super friendly, if not a little obnoxious.

The rest of the team – Zetsu and Pein and usually Itachi – organised the details of their performance and got permission from the Mayor to use the park as their destination. They weren't actually permitted to create such a commotion in public without consent.

The show went on for another hour. Some people left halfway through, others arrived then. Not many left without donating something from their pockets. It was a good business for the Akatsuki. Time flew and Hinata suddenly found herself clapping and cheering, as the rest of the crowd dispersed to continue with their Wednesday afternoon appointments and engagements. Hinata, without waiting to be asked, started rolling up the tarpaulin with Hidan and Itachi once the majority of the crowd had disseminated. She slipped the fifty into the black top hat and carried it over to the van, but not before being stopped by a firm hand.

"What do you think you're doing in our van, little lady? Can't you read?" The man gestured to a sign stuck to the back window from the inside. The orange pirate curtains were drawn so that nobody could see inside.

'_TRESPASSERS WILL HAVE THEIR MINDS BLOWN AND THEIR WALLETS STOLEN AMIDST THE CONFUSION_', was what it said. It was personalized. Hidan's idea, of course.

When Hinata had first ventured to speak with one of the performers, Hidan had jumped out of the car with his skeleton mask on and said those exact words. Hinata had fallen unceremoniously onto her ass, summoning a severe bruise, and screamed her lungs out until they bled. When she finally calmed down enough to listen to what they had to say, she had found herself wrapped up in a blanket sipping hot chocolate with the group of performers she had admired for years. He had been forced to apologize profusely, though it was clearly not sincere. Never had she been able to look at him without remembering that day. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she disliked him, disregarding his vulgar language.

"That joke is a bit old now, you know," Hinata sighed quietly. She usually had a tendency to stutter, but once she was comfortable with someone, she could speak freely. It was getting quite dark outside, being six p.m. in winter, and Hinata shivered. Hidan mistook it for a sign she had been scared. As if she had needed any other drama that day after what happened earlier that afternoon.

It never snowed in Konoha. They had summers, they had winters, they had autumns they had springs. But never could you tell the difference between the seasons simply by looking at the scenery. The trees never changed color, only bronzing at the edges during autumn. Other than that, the temperature was all that ever indicated the time of year.

Hidan burst into laughter, stumbling into the back seat. Itachi rolled his eyes and took the hat from her, taking her wrist and pulling her into the colourfully and originally decorated van with a soft smile.

There was a tie-dyed rug lying on the floor, which was made from several old rockability jeans sewed together and cut to fit around the numerous chairs and beds inside. There was a corner scattered with beanbags and pillows, sitting beside a minifridge that seemed to never run out of candy and Mountain Dew. Towards the back was where all the technology – speakers, microphones, strobe lights and such – were stored, right beneath the beds in a pull out compartment.

It was actually made for clothes, but they didn't have too much of those anyway. They had this miraculous thing called a washing machine that made it possible for them to wear their clothing more than once without smelling gross, Zetsu had once joked. Plus Hidan didn't ever wear shirts.

There were glow-lights stuck to the roof, which had a skylight centred aloof on fluorescent cowboy stickers. Tobi's choice.

In the front, Pein had his guitar strapped into the passenger seat ready to entertain anyone that was prepared to listen they may run into. He and Konan were the only ones that actually slept in the van, but the others kept so much of their junk in the car that it was like a storage closet.

They were free spirited, happy and fun. Everything Hinata wished she could be.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked. Even though Konan was quiet and soft-spoken, she had a nagging habit of sneaking up on people, unintentionally, while they were deep in thought and startling the daylights out of them. Her favorite victim was Hinata.

Said victim found herself rubbing a sore spot on her head where she had hit it moments earlier after jumping with extreme force indoors. She apologized to Pein for the small dint in the roof that now made itself clearly known, but he just laughed.

"Another memoir," he smiled, turning back to tidy his guitar.

Pein didn't ever mind when people he liked left their mark on his little van. For some reason, whenever he really liked someone, he actually enjoyed it if they left something for him to remember them by.

"You never know when that person might be gone, and such amazing people… I always want something to remember them by, but you can't just ask something like that," was what he had told her the first time she tipped a can of Cola on the jean-carpet. It had come out surprisingly easily, presumably because the denim she had stained was darker and made from different fabrics than actual carpet, but it was still visible. Tobi had proceeded to get a permanent marker and write, with his oh-so-neat handwriting, italic _Hinata_.

She was touched that they appreciated her so much. He did the exact same thing once again where she left the dint in the ceiling, laughing like some sort of maniac.

Konan placed a gentle hand on Hinata's elbow. "Sweetie? Everything okay?"

Konan had always been like a mother to Hinata. Well, ever since her own passed away three months after she first saw the Akatsuki perform. The group of performers had fallen in love with the mother Hyuga instantly, welcoming her into the van without hesitation. She made her first mark then and there, one of her perfectly groomed nails scratching the cover of one of the seats.

That was why Hinata didn't ever feel guilty if she contributed slightly to the damage of the old, rickety vehicle. Ever since Hinata's mother went to Heaven, Konan promised to look after her.

And she kept that promise; from giving her '_the_ talk', to helping her with homework and shopping, Konan was always there. She spent so much of her time with Hinata that she knew the teen inside and out. Being fifteen could be hectic sometimes.

So she knew when something was bothering her.

"I'm fine," Hinata lied. She was very good at lying, though she said so herself, not that it was something to be proud of. It was very useful, though. Especially when one was trying to cover up the fact that they had nearly been arrested.

"You sure?" Konan pressed, determined to pursue the issue until every detail of it was leaked.

"Really, I am." Konan nodded hesitantly, absently checking her watch.

"Wow, look at that! Time has literally flown right over my head, we gotta get Hinata home now," she told Pein, who was lounging in the front seat while he tuned his guitar. It was probably already tuned to perfection, but he took some sort of joy out of tuning and retuning his 'baby', as he sometimes referred to 'her' as.

Sometimes Konan got a little annoyed that he paid more attention to his inanimate instrument than his wife of twenty years, but she was pretty laid back. She knew he loved her endlessly; he would never let her forget it. That was why they had been together for so long without so much as having the other sleep on the couch, Hinata often thought.

She also thought it was good to know true love still existed, and that there were decent guys still walking the Earth where the decent girls could find them. She considered herself one of those decent girls, her standards pretty high ever since seeing what her parents had been through.

Hinata didn't even notice when the van pulled out of its parking spot and started driving her home, passing numerous children strolling along with their parents. One of them waved at her. She smiled, and waved back.

"You know her?" Hidan wondered from the back seat.

He didn't understand what it meant to be polite. Deidara punched him in the arm and told him exactly that, too. They got into a sort of manly hugging fight, then got bored halfway through and started begging for some drive-thru ice-creams. Kisame and Tobi started chanting along, and Itachi said he would pay. Cheers and hollers could be heard by all the pedestrians as the orange Kombi – called Rinnegan – zoomed past. No doubt they all thought it was full of rowdy teenagers rather than adolescents and grown men (plus woman).

Oh yes, this was the life for Hinata. But her father disagreed.

-x-

Earlier that afternoon…

_03/22/2011 – Under the willow tree. Again._

_Dear my beloved notepad,_

_As of this moment, I have three favorite words. Others have favourite colors or numbers, but my love for words goes far beyond common fads and tricks used for gambling and such. I have three favourite words and they are my favorite for a reason._

_The first: family. Always there for you when you need them. The only people you can rely on when everything sucks. I consider the Akatsuki family now._

_The second: unfathomable. It rolls off the tongue so freely and casually, yet whenever I say it, my lips tingle and I get excited. I don't know why, it's just a cool word._

_Three: love. Love, because it's the only word I cannot understand. Being an author (well, aspiring one, anyway), my vocabulary has expanded far beyond that of my peers. But still, I find it hard to write about romance or affection when I have never experienced it. I get what it's like to write about family love, but apparently nobody cares about that. If I want to be big, I'll have to expand my genres. Not everyone is into novels about school life, especially the clichéd ones with the super-hot popular guy and the geeky, perfect new girl. It is the only word that challenges me. Must learn meaning!_

_Until we converse again (A.K.A Tomorrow arvo __**(*)**__),_

_~ Hinata._

She flicked her wrist, flailing and shaking her hand around to stop it from cramping. Her hand always hurt when she wrote too much, mostly due to the odd way she held her pen. As if it were a crayon, she wrapped her petite fingers around its circular base and formed a fist-shape with her hand, the pen firmly gripped in the middle. It was a habit her father had been trying to permanently sojourn for far too long without any satisfactory results.

Resting her head against the trunk of her favorite willow tree – which she had named Yumi respectfully after her mother, meaning 'beauty' – she let the fresh open air fill her mind and soul with positive thoughts. The willow tree was where she reflected on the events of her day, and let her mind wander onto subjects that people could only have with themselves and greater forces.

She thought of the insignificance of everything on the Earth. How small they had to be compared to what lay watching over everyone in space.

She was at the local park, waiting for the Akatsuki to arrive so she could help them set up and prepare for the show. She always came hours early, so she had time for herself, packing a few cheese sandwiches and a drink bottle. A small dam with reeds and lily-pads floating gracefully across its surface sat directly in her line of vision, giving her eyes something nice to look at while she let her mind take over.

She loved thinking – it was her favorite thing to do, only she preferred to think of more philosophical things than mathematics and her future and education. Her future, to her, was too far away to fully see through smog which blinded her vision, other than writing. It was all she was good at. She didn't know what she wanted to be, though she knew what she loved – writing and reading. But not many authors ever made it in the world. She needed a backup plan.

What could her backup plan be? She didn't know.

She had been told she was pretty. Perhaps she could marry a nice, wealthy man that respected her and have children that grew to be more successful than she ever did.

Yeah right, like her father would settle for anything less than perfect. And she didn't want to rely on her husband, either. Independence was attractive and fulfilling, she often reminded herself.

She sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her abnormally small ear with a dainty finger pointing in the air. Force of habit, she wasn't trying to be fancy. She was just being herself, which she never actually got a chance to do unless she was alone or with her best friends.

She suddenly heard someone scream. It wasn't a terrified scream; it was a playful, whiny scream. It was a teenage girl. That meant school was out…

How strange. It felt as if they had been released earlier than usual today. What with her being home-schooled, she usually lost track of the morning hours since she could find all her work waiting in a neat folder on her family PC. She didn't have much work on Wednesdays, since her father was working and Neji was busy with swimming practice with his team until later that night.

If she didn't move soon she would be bombarded by flocks of flamboyant, cheery, hyperactive teens that only seemed to care about their mobile phones and iPod's. She rolled her eyes, packed up her scattered belongings and notes into a sling bag she took with her everywhere, and dusted off the back of her jeans with a floppy hand once she was steady on her feet. No use staying around. She felt lightheaded for a few moments, and had to lean on the tree once her hand was free.

As she wiped her bottom with her free hand to get rid of excess dirt, she noticed the time displayed on her watch. It was only twelve p.m. Okay, so she often lost track of time. But her watch was _never_ wrong, ever. Her cousin, Neji, made sure of that. So was it possible her perceptive hearing had been betrayed? Perhaps someone else that was already out of school was screaming like an idiot.

"Na na na na na, you can't catch me!" Wait, was that a girl? Or just a really high-pitched boy?

A siren disrupted her thoughts. Police? That couldn't be good. If she didn't get going soon and word spread that someone was arrested nearby Hinata, and that she hadn't fled the scene immediately, she could get into trouble. That Tsunade was such a jabber-jaws, no doubt Hiashi, her father, would hear of this soon.

Hinata was just about to head towards her car when a blond boy with spiky hair and an orange jumpsuit appeared around the corner of the public bathrooms. He was running. Fast. And I mean, _lightning_ fast. Plus, he was heading straight for her.

She squeaked, jumping onto a park bench so as not to get caught in his red-hot trail and possibly lose a limb. A shooting pain ran through her ankle, indicating she had landed wrong.

He was moving so recklessly, he looked like an orange blur. The only thing that defined him as human was his childish ranting: "Come and get me, coppers!" or "Eat my dust, freeloaders!"

Her heart rate sped up far more than what she considered comfortable. The blond boy was all of a sudden out of sight, and the police were scanning the area frantically like lost puppies. They seemed to give up after a few minutes, mumbling grouchily and panting heavily into a walkie-talkie that hung loosely from their utility belts. After a few moments, one of the men noticed the frozen teenager stuck like glue to the nearby bench.

"Hey, you! Arnie, it's another kid ditching school."

Hinata gulped. This would not end well.

-x-

**(*) Arvo = Australian slang for afternoon.**

**Phew, was that too long? I was about to keep going then I realised how long it was already, he he.**

**Erg, yep. That's the beginning. So, tell me what you think, this was meant to be a little prologue to tell you what's going on (kinda) so tell me what you think.**

**What you think means you can tell me if this is the crappiest fic you've ever read and if I shouldn't ever post any more chapters to anything at all including this fic, I'm open to all opinions.**


	2. An Unexpected Reaction

**Thanks for reviewing, and since people seemed to like the first chapter, I will post it online. Yippee.**

**READ BACK 2 DECEMBER! She has awesome fics, better than my own. Really. Go.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto or any characters affiliated with it.**

**Thus begins yet another chapter.**

**In Australia, 'gray' is spelled grey.**

**-x-**

Hinata's body just would _not_ stop trembling.

A small rusty spring protruding from the rigid seat, which was taped and poorly stitched together in multiple places, pricked her bottom whenever she leaned back on the leather chair, so she had to push herself from the seat using clenched knuckles the entire ride. Her arms were growing sore form the strain, and her throat was dry from heavy, uneven breaths.

She was so embarrassed and scared. Her father was not the understanding type, to put it lightly, and seeing her arrive in a police car certainly wouldn't go down well in his book. She honestly hadn't done anything wrong, though.

Perhaps she was over-analysing. Her father wasn't all too bad, just strict is all. But she had seen too much already to trust, she had heard too much to believe her father was anything but judgmental and cruel.

When the police duo had approached her back in the park, she explained to them that she was home-schooled, but neither of them believed her. She even showed them a signed letter from her father she carried in case anyone inquired why she was not at home. She had no student ID to prove her age, and no official documents that would convince them she was legitimately permitted to be outside in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. Regardless of her pleas, which apparently only made her seem more suspicious, they decided they had to ask her father if all of it was true.

That was why she was crouched in the back of the small cramped police car, the faint smell of coffee and something sickeningly tangy intoxicating the stuffy air as she struggled restlessly against the handcuffs rubbing painfully against her wrist. As if her day could suck any more.

That was another thing that she was worried about, was how her father would take it out on the police for handcuffing her. She made a silent prayer that nobody – nobody meaning the police – would walk away with any broken bones and no Hyuga's would receive burdening fines for assaulting an officer.

Hiashi had minor anger issues in these sorts of situations, something her mother had suffered for long ago.

The ride was unpleasant and silent. Each bump on the road sent the spring hurdling grotesquely into her bottom and she held back the squeaks that rose to her throat. The two men that had arrested her were sitting in the front seat, apparently comfortable with the lack of conversation. That was something she was greatly thankful for, since she had no desire to talk with either of them.

The one in the passenger seat had deep brownish-black hair tied back in a ponytail, and he had an arrogant yet somehow secluded air about him. It wasn't as if he were trying to show off, it was more like he was just better than everyone else and he knew it, but didn't go around announcing such things either. He was odd. And a little attractive.

The one driving, Arnie, was no doubt American. He must have moved to Konoha a while back, though, because he spoke their language fluently and wore the same items of clothing. He was thinning on the top of his head and had a bushy mustache, without many other defining features besides beady sunken-in eyes. He was the typical average Joe, the kind you would expect to see as an extra to a movie.

He reminded Hinata of herself, in the way he would blend in with everyone else. There was nothing special about him, just like her. For that reason, she had instantly preferred him over the strikingly gorgeous officer in the passenger seat.

At some point one of their walkie-talkie's made a muffled static noise and a disgruntled mechanical voice notified them of something she couldn't quite decipher.

"We'd better tell unit five we're busy," the driver, Arnie, decided, and his partner nodded. The other held the device to his mouth, mumbling so low it was close to a whisper while holding down a button on the side. There was a brief "roger" from the other end, and that was about it for discussion.

Soft jazz was all to be heard, saxophones and trumpets colliding to create something calm and upbeat at the same time. An almost impossibly husky voice that made her ribcage buzz sang randomly over the top of the disorganized noise, yet somehow it all sounded good. There was nothing quite like jazz.

She was both relieved and deeply apprehensive when they turned into her driveway. She had given them her address before they left. They must have spent plenty of time driving around her neighbourhood, because most people needed further directions when attempting to tackle the labyrinth roads to her home.

Neji was already outside when the car pulled in. He was shooting hoops with Rock Lee and Tenten, laughing and chortling playful insults to the girl that just couldn't quite manage to get the ball through the ring.

_Perfect_, Hinata thought dryly, all color draining form her face. _I thought he was going to have a late night at Lee's place…_

Their laughter stopped abruptly when they spied the vehicle, the three teens standing to the side of the driveway to give it room to park. They stood side-by-side in a line on the lush grass, glancing from one another and back to the car. The same thought was running through all of their minds when they witnessed Hinata, of all people, being escorted from the sedan:

What. The. Hell.

Hinata's front yard was absolutely stunning. Their house – or more appropriately mansion – was a pastel marble, giant pillars holding up the balcony on the second floor creating a front patio. There was a mass square of land to the right, leading into the backyard where a small luxury swimming pool with a spa to the left of it and a barbeque area.

Pink and white roses littered flowerbeds sitting tastefully beneath their front porch, a fountain with three stone cupid's shooting water from their arrows in the middle of the driveway. Pebbles and bitumen made up the path, surrounding the fountain. It made it easier for cars to get in and out that way, rounding and heading back out the large front gates that were under constant watch by security cameras.

That meant Hiashi knew she was there already, no doubt.

The entire property was surrounded by a wall, so nobody could get in or out. Well, almost; their house was on a cone shaped land, the tip of it centred in a large circular property. The land was broken up into thirds, the Inuzuka and Aburame households occupying the neighbouring houses. That meant that there was a point in the middle of the land, where the fence dipped slightly and a tree wept over all three estates.

She often met there at the end of the day with her two best friends, Kiba and Shino, who climbed the tree and peeped over the fences. She hadn't the nerve to climb, so they often looked down on her from their own great perches.

Hiashi pushed their butler out of his way with a hostile arm, scowling directly at his daughter. He stormed across the porch and down the stairs, his robe flickering behind him revealing unceremonious boxers and a grey singlet, and stood in the way of the two policemen with defiant, folded arms.

"Officer, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded, voice more controlled than his writhing balled fists.

The man, whose name she had not yet discovered, remained stoic, gently pulling Hinata by her elbow to the middle of the two. "I am officer Fugaku Uchiha. Is this your daughter? You are her parental guardian?" he asked in an official tone. His voice was low and gruff, matching his black sleek hair and blank eyes, as if he had seen many horrible things throughout his lifetime.

"Yes, what has she done?" he seethed, glaring a hole through her as she leapt behind the officer for protection. "I can assure you that you needn't worry about punishing her yourself."

"We found her at the park during school hours. She said she was home-schooled, but we needed to check. Is this true?" he asked, arching a preened eyebrow.

Hiashi's expression softened ever so slightly as he sighed, relief flooding through him. "Of course. So she didn't break the law or anything dramatic?"

Fugaku closed his eyes and nodded. "Not at all, but next time she is outside during school hours she will need a permit from the Mayor's office." He turned to face Hinata, who was frozen in place. "I apologize for the inconvenience. Farewell," he smiled ever so slightly, as if it pained him, tugging his partner along into their car and driving away after using a key from his belt to release the handcuffs.

She rubbed the back of her neck, averting her eyes to the rubble beneath her feet. She knew he was glaring at her, without even lifting her head. She knew that Neji and his friends were looking at her strangely, too.

It had all been so fast. Hiashi ushered her into the house with two stern arms as Neji, Tenten and Lee followed with curious expressions, being out of earshot during the conversation between Hiashi and the policemen. The hallway rushed by in a blur of paintings and photographs.

They stopped at the kitchen door where Hinata was seated by the bench on a high stool. Hiashi slowly glided back and forth, pacing, and then stood in front of her, disappointment clear on his face. A long silence followed as he stared at her expectantly. When it was clear she wasn't going to say anything, he slammed his hand on the table, making all four teenagers jump.

"Would you care to explain?" he spat. Hinata had no idea what to say. Had everything not been made clear already?

"I-I'm s-sorry, father, p-please – "

"I don't want an apology," he barked. Though his voice remained stern, his eyes betrayed the façade. Concern was plastered all over his features clearly. "Why on Earth didn't you have a permit with you?"

She swallowed down tears as they threatened to emerge. She would not cry, not in front of everyone. Rubbing the sore spot on her wrist, she wiped away the blood that formed where her skin had been broken. "I d-don't have a permit…" she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"Speak up," he ordered, though he had heard her quite clearly. "Hyuga's do not murmur. We speak with confidence."

"I do not h-have a p-permit," she replied, voice shaking.

"Why did you not ask for one?" Neji and Le decided that they should leave the two alone, dragging the ever eager Tenten away with them whom treasured any gossip she could manage to get her hands on. "And stop all that incessant stuttering. It irritates me to have to speak with you when you are this way."

"I did not know I need-ded o-one." Hiashi stroked his chin, leaning on the marble table top and averting his gaze to the wall opposite him.

"Why not?" he asked.

She bit her lip, fighting tears with all her strength. Her long hair swept across her face, disguising the inward battle. "I apologise – "

"I do not want your apologies!" he snapped, whacking the marble with a hard fist once more. A lone tear rolled down her right cheek. "Look at me when I talk to you, Hinata!"

She slowly lifted her heavy head, cheeks blazing as he inspected the path of a tear glistening clearly in the artificial lighting of the room. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I will have to get you one then, I suppose." There was a long silence.

She hated when her and her father spoke, because they almost always resulted in an uncomfortable muteness between subjects or a pointless argument. They hadn't much to talk about, their conversations never flowed and it was almost a chore for them both. The quietness was almost like a warning, or a weapon that threatened to slice the thin string that held together their relationship, forcing more senseless and unpleasant chit-chat. It pained her father, who wanted nothing more than to have a strong relationship with his daughter. He simply didn't know how.

"Go upstairs. Stay there for the rest of the day." Her heart sank. She stood up from her seat, eyes full of remorse.

"B-but father, the Akatsuki are performing this afternoon!" she cried, tears welling in her pale eyes.

"You are not allowed to leave during school hours anyway, and besides, they are a bad influence on you," he deadpanned, as if the fact that the people she adored performing without her attendance was practically a crime didn't matter.

"But their show starts at five anyway!" she countered. He looked down on her with clear dominance, and she faltered slightly, though not entirely deterred. Her voice began softer, with less defiance, "I-if I do not go, father, they will worry about me, and probably visit to see how I am…"

Hiashi froze. No. NO, they would not come to his house, not after what happened the last time.

He remembered the condition of his hard-earned estate he had arrived to when the Akatsuki had been invited over by his ex-wife all those years ago, and shuddered. Whipped cream on the mirrors, blue dye in the pool. They even mixed up his _spice rack_. Nobody messed with _Hiashi's_ prized spice rack, the secret to his chef's delicious and delectable curries, and got away unsinged.

Except for them. They had managed to escape his wrath, and he instantly began hating the back door.

After serious consideration, he sighed in defeat. "Okay, you may go, but you have a choice; go now and you will be grounded for the next week. Stay and you have freedom. Your choice."

Though he had intended for this to be a difficult decision, Hinata opted for the Akatsuki with little to no hesitation. "Oh thankyou father," she giggled, quickly switching back to her lady-like frontage almost instantly and bowing before running upstairs to her room.

Her father had no time to object or make further threats, for she was out of earshot in a matter of seconds. He shook his head at her, feeling guilty. Why on Earth couldn't he speak to her without getting all riled up?

-x-

Hinata lay on her bed amidst bundles of soft toys and pillows when someone tapped on her door softly. "Come in," she called, brightening when she saw Kurenai saunter briskly through the oak double-doors and do a polite little curtsey.

"Hello, Madam Hinata," she bowed her head, smiling, "how are you? I heard about the little incident."

Kurenai was Hinata's personal nanny. She did all the looking after a mother did for her newborn child, almost like a servant. Hinata didn't treat her like one, however, which was why Kurenai had taken such a big liking to her. All the cleaning, organizing and errand-running wasn't as frantic and loathed when she was thanked and rewarded generously all the time. She didn't just do it for the gifts and credit, though; she truly had a soft spot for the Hyuga Heiress.

Hinata rubbed her tear-stained eyes, smiling sadly. "Kurenai. Oh, I'm okay." Her stomach felt sick whenever she lied like that.

Kurenai could tell she was lying, too. "Hinata. Tell me, it will be okay if you do." The nanny sat beside her on the bed, smoothing out the creases on the sheets as she did and staring the teen in the eyes. Kurenai's own eyes had always mystified Hinata, being the most unusual shade of gorgeous crimson. Most of her features were memorable like that.

She sighed in defeat, leaning on the woman's shoulder for comfort. "I didn't mean to. I don't even know why it happened. There was this boy being chased by the police, but he escaped, and then they saw me… and…" she couldn't finish, due to tears choking her words. A rough, soap-dried hand caressed her sleek locks, shushing noises whispering in her ear.

"It's alright, sweetie," she assured the girl, and partly herself as well. Hiashi hadn't released his wrath yet. When he got home from work that night things would really heat up. The woman bit her lip, racking her brain for a solution. Suddenly, an amazing idea hit her. Lifting up Hinata's chin, she smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, I have an idea."

-x-

_Previously…_

Naruto's breath was jagged and had a strange pattern, and his throat was dry from all the running, but the adrenalin pushed away any uncomfortable thoughts. He leant against the rickety wooden wall, careful not to disrupt the termites, trying to catch his breath.

He was sure he had lost the cops a few blocks back, but there may have been other ones circling the area in their slaughter machines.

Naruto was fairly sure there was a conspiracy going on with the police. Why was it that whenever they took someone in their car they didn't return for so long? And when they did, they were completely different or even more messed up. There was only one plausible conclusion: the police were capturing innocent people and brainwashing them to fit into the 'normalities' of society to be used as tools for the government.

He despised the police, ever since his parents had been taken away by them. They were locked away in prison, probably being tortured, all because they were selling stuff to people that didn't have homes. And because of them he had to return to a bed that wasn't his, but everyone's, each night at the Konoha Foster Facility.

But he couldn't go there after being chased by the police. He was supposed to be at school, anyway. So he had opted for his secret safe house, one only his best friends knew existed. It was an old, run-down shack to everyone on the outside, but on the inside it was a renovated, carpeted chill zone courtesy of Sasuke.

It actually was Naruto's old home. Nobody was allowed to go inside it, but no rules or laws scared Naruto, or Sasuke for that matter. Sakura didn't know that by walking through the property they were trespassing, because the two boys were sure she would snitch on them. She was a goody-two-shoes, really. The only reason they hung out with her was because she was super funny and strong.

And cute, but that was Naruto's opinion.

Naruto slowly and softly pushed open the old door, which hung loosely on only one of its hinges, waiting for light to fill the room and scare away the rats and cockroaches. He slipped off his worn sneakers and strutted inside with complete confidence, as if he were positive he could never be caught, spinning a few times before diving onto a fluoro green beanbag.

"Aaaah," he sighed, giggling to himself. So much better than school.

Feet propped up on a wooden crate and waist held parallel to his knees by a bag of soft squishy things the teens had collected from old plushies, Naruto slipped his hand into the conveniently placed snack box to his immediate right in search of some chocolate bars. Once his hand grasped hold of a Snickers bar, his eyes closed and he leant his head upon folded arms, inclining his head in his signature top-secret chill out position. He called it the Pose of Epic Proportions.

Actually, Sakura had come up with it and he had stolen it instantly, claiming it as his own. She was so smart.

His breathing levelled and ever so slowly, his exhausted body forced shut down. Such a gruelling escape had not been easy on his muscles and the effects were only just setting in. He ached all over, body begging for rest. He accepted the request, becoming lost in his imagination as sleep consumed him.

Time seemed to fly, because when he woke up again the sun was setting and Sasuke's backpack was suffocating him. He coughed and spluttered, hearing familiar derisive laughter echo through the cramped space.

The blond shook his head and sat up, muscles tight and sore. He mumbled obscenities under his breath when his gaze locked upon two teenagers he knew all too well.

"Sakura? Sasuke? Did you ditch too?" he asked lazily, voice slurred as it dragged itself from sleep mode with maladroit arms.

Sakura scoffed. "Naruto, how many times do we have to tell you. If you keep ditching you'll get expelled and that means we might never see you again!" Her voice became slightly frantic near the end of her rant at the thought of never again chatting with her best friends in the world. It seemed like hell to her at the time.

Sasuke leant down and sniffed the air around his friend. "Have you been eating the chocolate bars again?" he asked ruefully. "My parents are getting suspicious enough as it is. They know I hate candy and they think it's for a girl!" He seemed genuinely disgusted by the idea, making Naruto grin.

"Yeah, I mean that must seem pretty gross to you, eh cock block?" He was soon beaten to a pulp by the two others, mainly Sakura, while his ego was pummelled by callous insults.

They left him steaming hot from the impact and speed of their fists, collecting their belongings in preparation to leave. Naruto sat up rubbing his bleeding nose, glancing between his two friends in childish bewilderment.

"Um, wait, you guys aren't going to leave now 'cos of that are ya?" he asked.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Figures you would have forgotten already, Naruto. We're going to the skate park. Shikamaru is going to be there today."

Naruto perked up instantly, jumping to his feet completely ignoring the shooting pains that coursed every inch of his being. "Sweet! I'll get my camera!"

-x-

_Returning to Hinata's ride home with the Akatsuki…_

The ride was less bumpy as they slowed down nearing the local skate park. Hidan leapt from his seat with record speed, pressing his face against the window and screaming his head off. "That little bastard! He knew we were performing today, I know he did!"

Pein was forced to pull over when Hidan opened the slide door, in the middle of the road, and rolled out of the car, sprinting towards the crowd of fans ogling the locally famous skater.

Most of the people in the crowd wore clothing resembling that of a punk; fish nets, strange colors streaked through their wackily styled hair, large logo's on their t-shirts, ripped jeans, chains and piercings. It made Hinata very, _very_ uncomfortable to be near any of them.

Everyone in the Rinnegan was forced to run after their now least favorite member, pushing through the crowd to get to him before he got to Shikamaru. Or, more likely, Shikamaru's manager Asuma.

Hinata had originally began searching for him frantically, catching glimpses of his silver hair before losing him in the dense crowd once more. She was pushed, shoved, pinched and groped several times before she broke into an opening… right where she started. She was back next to Pein's Kombi.

She mumbled under her breath, though the loud music made it impossible to hear. She decided to climb on top of the Kombi to get a better look of the place.

Awkwardly stretching out her lanky arms, she gripped hold of the sunroof and pulled her lengthy body onto the roof. It was quite hard, since she wasn't gifted with upper body strength, but she managed, panting lightly when she reached the top in a heap of limbs and hair.

She really needed to exercise…

She lifted her head, pale eyes soaking in her surroundings. There were large wooden sculptures she often saw skaters riding across. Shikamaru was in the middle of performing a stunning move, flipping several times in the air while spinning around, almost as if he were moving in all directions at once. The crowd filled with rambunctious and no doubt law-breaking teenagers were going absolutely wild at the sight. She recognised many of them from the Akatsuki's shows.

The reason Hidan had gone so crazy was because he assumed Shikamaru had knowingly decided to perform the same day the Akatsuki had. They had done this before, and more people went to see Shikamaru than the Akatsuki performance group because they didn't get to see him as often. Kakuzu had chatted to his manager, Asuma, about it before, and they had gotten into a large fight. Asuma had even threatened a legal case against him if he didn't leave their property.

She scanned the onlookers, searching desperately for a shirtless, silver-haired psycho. There were more people that fit that description than she had thought there would be.

After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, she was about to give up when a flash of orange and yellow caught her eye. Her head snapped to the left and she gasped as her gaze locked on the blond teen that had run past her before. The one that had gotten her into trouble. It was his fault, and he was watching Shikamaru, the Akatsuki's mortal enemy, perform.

That was so not going to fly with her. She wasn't going to let him get away without an earful.

-x-

**I know it's not that great, but yeah.**

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	3. Of How We Met

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-x-

The camera wasn't very expensive and only managed to catch blurry, out-of-focus or far too dark images, but Naruto didn't mind. It wasn't like anyone else cared about what he took photos of. A few rowdy tattooed guys started chanting something along the lines of 'deer day'. Naruto recognized the nickname as one of Shikamaru's most impressive signature moves.

The Deer Day move looked impossible. Shikamaru had actually first accomplished it on accident; at one of his later shows, when he was about fourteen, his board had slipped from one of the jumps and he used his hands to steady himself in a handstand position. His board continued to ride along, grinding down a pole, so he ran awkwardly after it on the palms of his hands then jumped back onto it almost effortlessly when he reached it again. The move was caught on camera, and everyone had thought it was done on purpose.

He did it so lackadaisically that everyone started calling him lazy, and 'Deer Day' came about as an abbreviation for lacka_dai_sical, since it was far too long to chant, and the meaning of his first name.

Shikamaru was panting atop one of the giant ramps, downing a bottle of water fetched for him by his closest friend Chouji. Asuma was on the phone, holding one finger in his ear and gazing somberly at the sky, which resembled a deep black lacquer sprinkled with gleaming stars. He squinted his eyes furiously, rubbing the side of his face with a droopy, worn-out expression.

Even clueless Naruto could tell something was up.

He switched the camera's mode to recording and turned the lens up to the stands to see if he could catch some of the conversation, even though he was on the other side of the park. Asuma seemed to dismiss the person on the phone momentarily, quickly craning his neck to get a good look at Shikamaru, whose knees seemed as if they were about ready to collapse underneath him at any moment. Not from exhaustion, but judging from the frantic look in his eyes, fear.

The manager glowered at nothing in particular, covering his mouth to muster a few more instructions into the mouthpiece of his mobile and snapped it shut. He slowly turned with his hands on hips to report to Shikamaru.

Sasuke was watching them, too, and soon Sakura's gaze followed theirs. "What's going on?" she asked, having to raise her voice due to the massive uproar.

She was wearing a simple pale pink t-shirt with skinny jeans and casual flip-flops. The night was warm and humid, so her jacket hung around her waist tied bulbously at the front. Sasuke was in a similar outfit, baggy jeans and loose black cotton shirt, so the two of them didn't attract as much attention as Naruto's signature bright orange suspenders and long-sleeved top with bare feet.

Sasuke either didn't hear or ignored her, so Naruto cupped his hands over his mouth to answer and overrule the roar of the crowd. "Dunno, looks like they're in trouble over there!" he yelled.

Sakura's owlish green eyes were filled with concern. Shikamaru and his friend glanced worriedly at each other, beginning to pack away their things at an alarming speed. The crowd started booing them, obviously dissatisfied with the unfinished performance.

Sakura lifted one hand to cover the fierce shine of the park streetlights and rested the other on her hip to examine the scene. She couldn't exactly see any palpable danger. "What makes you think that?" she cried back.

As if to answer her question, the entire crowd suddenly started jumping and shouting like children at a carnival. Naruto was pushed and shoved into his friends, who thrust him back. They were all cheering someone on, but the group was too far away to see just who it was. Shikamaru and Chouji started edging away from the right side of the slanted jump, Chouji gripping onto Asuma's arm and screaming his head off. Shikamaru's face grew pale and Asuma's grew red from anger.

They seemed to be freaking out about nothing from his point of view, swarms of shaven and dyed heads blocking his line of vision. The crowd inched forward, space clearing as the taller men filed past imperiously. Then Naruto saw what the fuss was about.

He only managed to catch a glimpse before someone larger than him pushed through. The ramp started rocking, back and forth, faster and faster as each fleeting second flew past. Someone, with gleaming slicked back grey hair and no shirt, was rocking the ramp that Shikamaru, Chouji and Asuma were perched upon.

Even the blond could see that if they fell they would probably die.

Naruto started yelling vulgarities but his cries went unheard over the screaming of the almost ravenous crowd. They were cheering on some maniac that was trying to kill Shikamaru and his friends! What kind of support was that?

A few others started joining in on the rocking when Sasuke swore as he disappeared through the crowd. He seemed to dodge and dance through them with ease as if he had done it a million times before. Knowing _that_ guy, though, he probably had.

Sakura noticed and called out his name, running after him desperately. It wasn't as easy for her to get through, but her small frame allowed for more flexibility through limbs and chains. She just hoped he wasn't going to get hurt as she caught up to him, trailing at his heels.

They soon slipped out of sight. Naruto was about to begrudgingly trudge after his friends when his sleeve got caught on something. His head snapped back to see what it was, but too many pierced bodies were in the way.

A prickly woman in revealing leather attire pushed him out of the way into the chest of a large muscular beast, who punched him for some reason square in the jaw, and soon he was being trampled by swarms of cleated boots. His arched back collided with the hard concrete path out of the way of the grass, pulsating from the impact. Whatever was caught on his sleeve wasn't letting go even after being pulled downwards, to his dismay, and he found it impossible to move away from the snag.

His head was throbbing, though he had no idea why, but his answer was soon revealed as warm crimson liquid dripped over his eyes. He tried to sit up when something sharp and cold pierced his right arm, but he couldn't see what it was since his head was soon kicked down by a black sneaker.

His heartbeat accelerated, body writhing uncontrollably to get some room. His vision was blurred by his own blood, stinging as tears began welling in his eyes. The air around him was becoming harder to suck in and his nose was knocked back through his skull by yet another shoe. It burned his entire face and head, growing hot as he soon realized he wasn't getting out until the crowd passed through.

Inclining his head desperately to see behind him, he saw that there were still many more people to come, none of them eager or willing to help Naruto to his feet. He gasped for air, and in return he got the imprint of a shoe on his face. His lips separated in preparation to scream, but nothing but an inaudible squeak escaped. A salty mixture of tears and blood flooded the blonde's tongue, causing him to splutter and gag and ultimately lose more air.

Did nobody see him? Wasn't anyone going to help him out of there? Was he really being trampled?

His eyes grew wide as he remembered something Sakura had told him from the paper a few weeks before – how a grown man at a rock concert was trampled to death after falling over in the mosh pit. The crowds at Shikamaru's shows were the kind of people that he assumed had ancestors who created mosh pits… recklessness was in their blood, no doubt.

A thousand needles pricked his skin and clamped his throat shut as another boot squished his stomach flat, leaving him winded on the ground. Naruto was overcome with fear, a large lump forming in his throat and eventually cutting all sources of air from his lungs. He couldn't scream; nobody would hear him and his voice refused to obey. No air was getting into his lungs. His entire chest caught fire, begging for oxygen. Whitish-grey blotches resembling droplets of rain sprouted in his eyes, blocking out everything around him. He couldn't see.

_This is it. I'm going to die._

Naruto's entire body grew numb. He felt as if the claws of a thousand eagles were scratching his throat. Was that what everyone felt before they died?

He could still feel the unbearable burning sensation in his chest that commanded oxygen enter his lungs or he would die. He tried to open his eyes, but they had jammed themselves shut.

The overwrought screams of the crowd were still loud in Naruto's ears, but he hardly noticed them over the loud thump of blood pumping in his eardrums. He thought he heard a siren in the distance.

The blonde's head felt like it was being beaten with a crow bar. Every inch of his brain was screaming with the worst headache he had ever endured in his lifetime. Was there a chainsaw decussating his skull in half?

He was pretty sure his entire body and mind were about to go into shutdown when something soft brushed against his lips. He barely felt it, but the sudden warmth through all the coldness of death made him jump. He felt his body rise and fall, and suddenly his throat felt extremely hot and parched.

Something was pumping on his chest, and soon air flooded his lungs. It was igneous and scorched his dry throat, but he didn't care. It was such a relief that his entire mind went blank. All he could focus on was the fact that he was breathing, and he was breathing, and he was _breathing…_ and breathing too much hurt.

His lungs felt like they were going to explode like a balloon with too much air, and yet they continued to greedily consume all the oxygen in the general vicinity. The air was far too warm, though – like the air that seeped from an oven when it has been cooking for a fair amount of time. It was like drawing in fire but, if fire kept him alive, he had to deal with it.

Naruto's eyelids broke apart and an unbearably bright light stained his vision. Everything around him was invisible in the brightness.

Somebody was repeating over and over how incredibly sorry they were. The voice was soft and nearly imperceptible, though it comforted him a little. Naruto's chest heaved as his lungs fought to capture any and all morsels of air around him. The air was no longer hot and unusable; somehow it was now freezing cold and smelled stale and artificial. Still, it was air again, not fire.

The illumination of the streetlight seemed to intensify, and his hands were writhing. Something soft and comforting quickly grasped hold of them and held them together, almost like silk enveloping his fingers.

What was going on? He couldn't tell. It remained that way for what seemed hours, until finally he was picked up in something stiffly long and hard. The silk was still wrapped around his fingers, and he could no longer hear the yells of a crazy crowd. Instead, there was the siren ringing in his ears and the heaving of his chest. Had his lungs not yet been filled? They were still clinging to every bit of air around them.

He was scared. He had no idea what was going on, and everything around him had suddenly gotten brighter so he still couldn't see. He couldn't even tell whether his eyes were open or closed.

Naruto tried to yell but he could only feel himself screaming, not hear it. He felt his arms and legs start flailing again, probably because he was shocked and panicking. He felt himself being held down by something coarse and hard. The unpleasant tang of blood and tears still lingered in his mouth. It seemed that his eyes weren't working at all.

Did blind people only see light?

He almost started thinking he was in a dream. That his body was still resting in the Pose of Epic Proportions in his fluoro green beanbag with chocolate wrappers scattered around him. Perhaps Sakura had been right when she said that candy before bed gave people nightmares; perhaps he was in the middle of a nightmare and he would wake up again soon.

Soon enough it was proved to be reality, however, when he heard someone whisper in his ear. He knew that his own imagination could not have created something so divine, so majestically beautiful; so _perfect_. "I-It's okay, I'm h-here," it crooned.

He now knew that the silk enveloping his hand must have belonged to the angelic voice. The heat that surrounded his ear so pleasantly when the being spoke was no illusion. The tingles that ran up and down his spine when her sweet breath tickled his face were not pretend. He _was_ actually going through hell, his body _had_ just suffered intense shock, and there _was_ an angel at his side that was telling him he was going to go to heaven and it would be okay.

That was his perception of the current situation, anyway.

So he stopped screaming, even though he was frightened and confused, and focused on the beautiful voice to keep him together until he passed.

-x-

Even though everything around her was still, there was something eerie about being in the hospital that made Hinata feel sick. Hospitals were where people died all the time, where families experienced the worst pain imaginable – loneliness.

The hospital was where she had seen her mother for the last time.

And there she was sitting beside a complete stranger, whose life she had endangered simply by grasping the edge of his bright orange sleeve, timorously holding his hand and telling him he was going to be okay out of culpability. The ambulance ride was where he had stopped screaming, though she could tell by the way he sucked and blew as if it were a chore and shivered uncontrollably that he was still panicking on the inside.

She had sensed him calming down the moment she spoke to him, resorting to keeping a one-sided conversation until she was sure she could leave. The doctors and nurses had assumed that Hinata knew the blond boy and let her stay with him, even though she _really_ didn't want to.

The last time she had been at the hospital, she had lost her mother. Even though she didn't know this boy, if she lost him at the hospital too she couldn't live with herself. She wanted to run away from him and continue living her life as usual with the assumption that he had made it out okay.

But it was her responsibility to stay. She felt compelled to remain at his side, as a sort of apology for risking his life. Her heart was heavy with guilt and she had already cried multiple times at the thought of killing someone on accident, even if he were a begrudged stranger that had got her arrested. She knew that if she left her conscience would forever be burdened.

She had much more control over herself after sitting with him for a while. Her hand still cupped and stroked his gently. She had tried to let go of him to go to the bathroom once before, but he had her in a death grip. The second her hand flinched away, he started crying and begging for the angel to come back, tugging mercilessly at her heart strings. She had stared at him for a while, processing the information, before deciding that it would be best for his sanity and her integrity if she stayed and paid her debt to the boy.

If it meant so much to him that she stayed, so be it. That's what her mother would have done.

Her shoulder was sore from leaning forward and holding onto his hand. She couldn't sit on his bed, and the chairs were nailed to the floor, making it impossible for her to scoot closer to him to get more comfortable.

The discomfort subsided as she soon lost herself in her thoughts. The nurses had wiped away all the blood and now his restless face was clear; there was a large cut in his forehead from when he fell down.

Agony. Fear. Pain. Those were the clearest emotions moping dismally across his features. Looking deeper she saw something like peace, but only when she spoke to him.

It was hard for Hinata to believe that she was still there next to him. She didn't even really know why she was. Her father and the Akatsuki would be worried sick about her. She would probably be grounded for life when the search party her father had no doubt assembled located her.

"Excuse me, ma'am." A nurse briefly rested her hand on Hinata's shoulder, smiling sweetly down onto the two of them. She scurried to the end of the blond boy's bed to pick up a folder tucked into a slot hanging from some metal bars, flipping through it until she reached the desired page. "Would you mind answering a few questions?"

Hinata gulped, glanced down at the sleeping boy, and nodded. "Of course, b-but I d-don't know if I can answer m-much." She forced her eyes to close. Damn that annoying stutter.

The nurse furrowed her eyebrows momentarily, wiping away the concerned look with the flash of a fake smile. "What is his name?"

Hinata froze. She had no clue what his name was. "I'm n-not sure…" _Do. Not. Stutter. Hinata._

She gave her a strange look, checking something in the folder before sighing and folding her arms. "What is your relationship with him?"

"We just met," she replied bluntly. Would she have to leave?

"I see…" The nurse scribbled down some information then left in a hurry, not bothering to tell Hinata what was going on. She remembered what Kurenai had told her about having a sleepover to get away from her father, reaching for her mobile phone, when a croaky voice stopped her.

"You…" Hinata gasped when the rough, sweaty hand she had been holding for hours grabbed her wrist. She looked into the eyes of the blond boy for the first time.

Ocean blue eyes, the most mesmerizing she had ever seen next to Kurenai. Not many people had features like that and were native to Konoha, it just wasn't normal. He had to be a foreigner.

He smiled ever so slightly, lips tugging softly at the sides to reveal very yellow, very unhealthy teeth. Hinata examined her hand, which had picked up dirt from the boy. He obviously wasn't the hygienic type.

The smile eventually grew faint, no doubt from his emotional and physical fatigue. "…you are an angel."

Hinata's heart stopped. Everything seemed to stop with it; the world was no longer in motion.

You are… an angel. That was what he had said. Only one person had ever called her an angel, and that was her mother. Her mother had called her an angel right before she died from lung cancer in the hospital bed thirty-nine on the third floor, room twenty-seven.

She had called her an angel. This boy had called her an angel. This total alien, whom she had been arrested by and nearly killed, called her an _angel_.

Her entire body was frozen. She wasn't thinking anymore. She wasn't breathing anymore. She couldn't feel anymore. The beeping noise from the stranger's heart rate machine had disappeared. No longer could she hear the scuffling of clothes as nurses ran up and down hallways. The only thing that Hinata could process was the endless flow of emotionless tears dampening her cheeks and sliding down her neck.

The blond boy frowned feebly. "Angels shouldn't… cry…"

His right arm twitched as if he were trying to move but found he was too weak. Hinata was still jammed into place, mouth ajar and salty tears continuing to flow profusely from her eyes. She didn't even know it was possible for someone to cry so much without making a sound. Her heart felt like it was being dragged down by weights through her stomach.

She wasn't seeing, either. Nothing at all was going on in Hinata's mind. She felt like a blank piece of paper.

Until something brushed against her cheek. She gasped, only just realizing that she needed to breathe again as the soft touch of the blond boy's hand woke her up from her brief coma.

"Angels shouldn't cry," he repeated sternly.

She nodded weakly, but the tears continued to pour. She started choking on her own breath, hiccups startling her and making her gasp again. She showed him, this complete stranger, the ugliest cry she could possibly have mustered while grunting as a reply to everything he said to her.

"You have pretty eyes." Grunt, snort, sniffle.

"Stay here, please, angel?" Sniffle, snort, grunt, nod.

"I want my friends to see that I met an angel." Snort, sniffle, grunt. She nodded again, taking deep breaths to control herself.

She didn't even know the boy. Why was she getting all riled up over nothing? This meant nothing to her. The boy meant nothing to her. And yet, there she was, bawling as if she had just seen her mother die all over again.

She scolded herself inwardly. _Stop acting a fool! Pull yourself together, Hinata! Hyuga's never show weakness…_

But this was so much like the first time…

Hinata's throat suddenly cleared. She gripped the hand of the blond stranger tightly with a reassuring smile. "I'll be sure t-to see them."

The stranger's eyes closed again. "Sweeto… speedos."

-x-

The stranger with the raven hair didn't speak at all. Neither did the other one, but it was obvious that she really wanted to ask Hinata some questions. They had arrived after a couple of minutes when the only two contacts on Naruto's phone had been called.

That was his name – Naruto.

The one with the pink hair, whom had introduced herself and the other guy on first sight, had freaked out over him being in hospital, arriving with the biggest gift basket Hinata had ever seen. It was filled with all kinds of candy bars and, strangely, ramen in a cup. She seemed like the kind of girl Hinata wouldn't want to mess with even if she were a bodybuilder and had a posse of bike riders. Her name was Sakura… something.

The other boy lent against the wall with his legs crossed in the chair on the opposite side of Naruto's bed. He hadn't said a word, simply closed his eyes and rested his feet on Naruto's stomach. He looked like a rebel, the kind of person Hinata would be grounded for simply looking at. A mellow air surrounded him, yet at the same time he looked deeply troubled and mirthless. Especially since he had earrings in the upper parts of his ears. Hiashi would freak out if Hinata or Neji ever got something like that done.

She didn't remember his first name, but Uchiha was enough to make her decide she would act like the perfect citizen around him… even if he didn't seem like one at all himself.

She still held Naruto's hand – that was what Sakura was staring so curiously at. She didn't seem jealous, just confused. Hinata was debating whether or not she should explain when her thigh began vibrating.

The raven-haired Uchiha and Sakura both snapped their heads up in alarm, glancing from Hinata to her pocket. Hinata gulped, wondering why they seemed so startled over nothing, sliding her phone from her pocket and flipping it open in a flash.

It wasn't very expensive – her father had insisted upon getting her a top-of-the-line mobile phone for her birthday, which she had sort of pleaded against, begging for something 'normal'. It was all she wanted to be. Normal.

She flickered her gaze from Naruto to her phone before checking her caller ID. It was, thankfully, Kurenai, and not her father. Her heartbeat, which had accelerated unintentionally, settled down a bit. "Hello, Hinata speaking," she answered politely, in her most official tone. Even though it was Kurenai her father would kill her if she didn't respond correctly when answering the phone.

Kurenai sounded as if she had been running a marathon. "Hinata, for goodness sakes where in the world are you?" she pressed breathlessly. "I need your whereabouts at once – Hiashi already thinks you are at my place so you needn't worry about him scolding you, but I still need to know where you are so I can pick you up and bring you home!" She took a moment to catch her breath.

Hinata gulped. "I-I'm at the hospital, with – "

"The _what_! Are you okay? Did somebody hurt you? It was those reckless Akatsuki morons, wasn't it? Oh, I'm going to kick their asses so hard they'll crap from their mouth!"

Hinata blushed at Kurenai's sudden outburst. She jumped, standing to her feet and causing the two other visitors to stare at her again. She scuttled out of the room after excusing herself, calming Kurenai down. "I'm fine, I'm here for… a friend," she hesitantly explained.

Kurenai was silent on the other line, making Hinata sweat. "Who?" she suddenly asked.

"Er, you don't know him," she answered hurriedly.

"_Him_?" Kurenai almost shouted, muttering obscenities. "That's it, I'm coming over there!"

The line was cut off, leaving a baffled, blushing Hinata clutching to her phone as she slid in a dazed manner with her back against the wall to the floor.

-x-

**Hey, hope you liked it and thanks for reading!**

**If anyone actually cares, sorry for the wait school started up again for me… lots of work, even though I'm only in second year of High School and I haven't seen **_**anything**_** yet compared to year 12.**


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